Bears and Soul Baring
by MoonGoddessShadow
Summary: Lassiter always knew when Shawn was going to say something especially inane or stupid. He's just never quite sure where the conversation is going to lead. Established Shawn/Lassiter.


A/N: Oh lord, long, boring work days do me no good when it comes to keeping plot bunnies at bay. I can't help it. Shassie just calls out to me sometimes, and watching "Black and Tan: A Crime of Fashion" got me again. It was just one line, too, and it still completely got away from me.

* * *

If Lassiter had one talent that had nothing to do with police work (besides whatever lewd things Shawn would say about his 'talent' between the sheets), it was that he always knew when Shawn was going to say something especially inane or stupid. Call it a hard-learned defense mechanism of sorts, but he knew that when Shawn got a certain contemplative glint in his eyes and went unusually quiet, it was often right before he piped up. Even as they spooned on his couch, watching old _Hill Street Blues_ reruns, these tells were glaringly evident and gave Carlton a small chance to prepare himself, though he very rarely knew what was coming.

"Soooo..." Shawn began, glancing up at his older boyfriend. Carlton sighed almost imperceptibly—was it really so difficult to just spend some quiet time together?-and raised his eyebrows, meeting the other man's eyes from his slightly elevated position on the couch.

"Yes?"

"When you said you'd rather shower with a bear earlier, did you mean Jeff from Daddy's Bar? Because he was probably one of the more attractive bears I've met, as far as hairy, heavyset older men go, but I'm not much for hairy guys." He twisted around to face the detective he'd been cuddling with, twirling a finger through the bit of chest hair that poked through Lassiter's partially unbuttoned work shirt. "Your manly sternum bush is enough for me, Lassiekins."

"I'm still not sure why you made us go to that damn bar," the detective grumbled, but his protests had been moot the night they actually went to the bar and they were still moot now. Absently, Shawn let his fingers drift across Carlton's collarbone as a lazy smile crossed his lips.

"I told you, we need to get more in touch with our people," Shawn replied, meeting Lassiter's eyes with a playful look. The detective frowned at his younger boyfriend.

"Our people?" he asked dubiously, one eyebrow arching. There was a very good chance he knew where this was going, and didn't like it one bit, but considering that this was Shawn, it could just as well go in any unfathomable direction. For once, he earnestly hoped this was some segue to a bad eighties reference.

"Gay men," Shawn answered, with his patented 'duh' tone that often made Carlton want to strangle him. Or kiss him. Maybe both. Either way, this conversation was definitely going exactly where he thought it was. Of all the times for Shawn to be predictable...

"We're not gay," he replied with as much vehemence as he could muster, though he was already pretty sure he was going to lose the ensuing argument. It was Shawn's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Carly," he murmured. One of his fingers trailed down Lassiter's chest, eliciting an involuntary shiver from the Head Detective. Mentally, Carlton cursed his reaction, because it completely ruined his point, but he enjoyed the psychic's fleeting touch too much to really regret it. Even the shit-eating grin that Shawn wore, which usually made Carlton want to throttle him, currently vacated his mind of all coherent arguments. "See, it's really cute when you act all brusque and manly, but seriously? We're snuggling on the couch. That's at least a little gay."

"Maybe a little," Lassiter admitted, still slightly dazed from Shawn's touch. The touch of another man, which was currently making it very, very difficult to think. Yeah, that was definitely not straight by any means. Shawn took this small acquiescence with his usual amount of aplomb.

"See, it's not so hard, is it?" He paused for a second, considering what he had just said. "Alright, poor choice of words. The truth shall set you free, Lassielicious." Lassiter, regaining a few of his upper brain functions, opened his mouth to respond, but Shawn cut him off. "Don't say that you're not gay, because whatever you want to call yourself, what's going on here -" He gestured between the two of them. "- what's going on here is pretty gay. Or maybe bi-flexible. Queer?" Eyes glazing over, he pondered the correct term for a second before Carlton cleared his throat. Hazel snapped back to blue as the young psychic was brought back to reality. "Right. Whatever you call it, what we're engaged in is pretty far from straight, and not just because of the scandalous man-love."

Carlton let a small, almost inaudible, sigh slip from his lips. Shawn was right. He was always right. And it's not like he hadn't had this argument with himself dozens of times over the last few months. Even if it had started out as a few sexual encounters, fueled almost entirely by frustration, it had spiraled into something real. It was no longer just a sexual thing (if it had ever been purely sexual); there was definite emotional attachment now. Being around Shawn stirred feelings in him that he hadn't felt in a long time and didn't always prefer to address. This was definitely not a fling, at least to him, and he was pretty sure Shawn felt the same way, at least if the slightly jealous tone in his original question was any indication.

"Yeah, you're right," he replied, defeated. Somehow, he got the feeling he'd be saying that a lot more than he'd like to in the future. Of course, there was also the distinct possibility that he would have more than his fair share of winning with Shawn, too, just when it came to slightly different things.

Hearing Lassiter's response, a bright smile threatened to split Shawn's face in half.

"I love it when you say that, Carly. Gives me all kinds of warm fuzzies. I mean, a sense of humility is really nice to see in a guy. I always know I'm right, but it's good to -"

"Shut up, Shawn," Lassiter managed before pressing his lips to the younger man's forcefully. Shawn responded quickly, hands moving to wind through the older man's hair and pull him in deeper. The kiss lasted only a few more seconds before Lassiter pulled away, quickly regretting his decision to end it when he saw Shawn's flushed cheeks.

"Wow, Carlton," was all the young man could mutter, staring dazedly into his boyfriend's eyes. Shawn Spencer, speechless. Now that was a sight Carlton could get used to. He leaned in again to place a quick, chaste kiss on Shawn's lips; this seemed to quickly draw the fake psychic's attention back to reality, and Carlton smiled languidly.

"And no, I don't want to shower with Jeff," he added, finally answering the original question. "Not only is he more than twenty years older than me, he smokes like a chimney." He paused for a second, letting his statement sink in (and maybe enjoying Shawn's own vaguely rapt smile a little bit), then went on, quieter now. "Besides, hairy isn't exactly my type either. I prefer younger, ridiculously annoying and unnaturally observant." Shawn's smile exploded into a full-blown grin as he rolled back to his other side, back to their original spooning positions.

"Aw, Carly-Que, you know just what to say to make a guy smile," Shawn practically cooed, relaxing back into Lassiter; tension that neither had realized was there eased out of his whole body. In a lower, more serious tone, he added, "That's good, you know, that you don't want to shower with Jeff, because I don't think I'm willing to share you." Carlton smiled at the sincere words and pressed a lingering kiss onto the top of Shawn's head, feeling a surge of possessiveness that was far from entirely heterosexual, not that he really minded at this point.

"Good, because you're all mine."


End file.
